I must content myself by saying, that although the march of these cumulative effects is not one-tenth as visible as the almost imperceptible movement of the hand that marks the seconds in one of our smallest electrical watches, they nevertheless eventually show in their result great and increasing evils, seriously affecting the child, the youth, the adult, and the man. It would not be too much to say that the traces of an injury, however slight, are never altogether obliterated, whilst every successive injury and deprivation of force renders the sufferer more open to every new inroad.

Although the minute hand of our electric watches moves almost imperceptibly, marking minutes, hours, days, and years, it advances in measured, limited progression; whereas the effects of suffering on the child go on advancing in an increasing—nay, multiplying—ratio, by which, up to a certain point, that of geometrical progression is far exceeded. If you can realise the fact, which in Montalluyah is incontestable, that even a scratch, however slight, will injure a child, it will require little stretch of imagination to form some conception at least of the injury caused to the beauty, form, health, strength, and mind of the adult, by the many diseases and sufferings which were allowed to leave their imprints on the young, impressionable clay and delicate organisation of the infant. Our children were formerly afflicted, like yours, with diseases resembling whooping-cough, croup, measles, small-pox, and other maladies, forming an almost endless list, and although the child survived the attacks and the incidental suffering and waste, the evil consequences could never be effectually removed.

The precautions now taken are very numerous. Many by themselves alone would be productive of great good, but when all are carried out, some contemporaneously, others successively, a result is scarcely less certain than the solution of a mathematical problem, based on accurate premises, save of course in the case of inevitable accidents. My laws provide for the protection of the child from its birth, nay, as I have before stated, prior to its birth; for the protection of the parent precedes that of the child. I knew that if the mother was sickly, or indulged in injurious habits, the child would suffer. I enjoined attention to these laws as a portion of the religious duties of the people. Amongst other things I explained the value of beauty in the human form, and how, when united with other qualities, it tended to the happiness of the individual and the well-being of the world. This I did at length, and in a manner to secure conviction, because it had been the fashion to decry beauty as a matter of minor importance.

At the risk of repeating myself, I assert that I omitted nothing, however seemingly insignificant, looking as I did upon my system as upon one large continuous volume, in which every page had its value. The absence of a single leaf would somewhat mar the general effect, but still the remaining pages might retain their worth if pregnant with good. On the other hand, if every leaf that was torn out had the effect of loosening the rest, and causing them to be lost, till but a few would be left in the cover, the effect would be far more serious.



XXXII.

INFANTS' EXERCISE-MACHINES.

"Does a man throw his precious pearls and diamonds into the sea?"

"Why, then, do ye cast the priceless health and beauty of your children to the winds?"

I cannot undertake to relate at present one tithe of the precautions taken in the care of infants. Did I venture so to do I should have to "descend" to the minutest particulars, such as the dispensing with "pins," and the making the baby's dress in one piece, the nursing, and form of the cradle, to the mode in which the baby is to be placed at the side of the mother, to prevent its being overlaid or injured,— everything, in fact, which in Montalluyah is thought essential to protect infants and save them from unnecessary suffering, in order that their young strength may be husbanded for the future requirements of the man.

To give you some notion, however, of the minutiae to which our care extended, I will explain to you one series of precautions which has great influence on the child's health, beauty, and intelligence.

Young children formerly suffered greatly from fits and various diseases, caused by the want of healthy circulation. When more advanced, and whilst learning to walk, they were subject to falls. This was amongst the most serious evils of early neglect, for it was demonstrated beyond doubt that accidents to the infant, prominent amongst which were blows received on its head, not only affected its after-growth, and laid the foundation of nervous and other disorders, but were often attended with the sadder result, that the child's intellect was impaired. Nevertheless, so little was this danger apprehended, that many people long indulged in the foolish habit of boxing children's ears, unaware that the shock produced on the nerves of the head, which are the conduits of electricity, often made a child stupid, if, indeed, the effects of this brutal practice were not in after-life attended by more serious consequences. In learning to walk, also, the weight of the child's body, pressing on the legs too heavily, has a tendency to make them crooked or bent, and to affect other parts of the body.

To obviate these evils, a man named Drahna invented, at my suggestion, certain mechanical contrivances, which were so efficacious, and prevented so much suffering, that his name will never be forgotten as one of the great benefactors of our world.

These contrivances are respectively adapted to the infant when it cannot sit up, when it can sit up, when it has acquired strength beyond the second stage, and, lastly, when the limbs have acquired sufficient strength to support the increased weight of the body.

The contrivance, in the first stage, is calculated to give the infant healthful exercise, circulate the blood, and, at the same time to protect him from injury. It consists of a soft spring-cushion, on which the baby is laid; two little elastic bands on this cushion secure the arms, whilst other bands secure the head, ankles, and waist. By turning a small handle the machine is very gently set in motion, but by pressing down a knob its velocity may be increased at will. So agreeable is the action of the machine, that when the motion is altogether stopped the child will often cry, or rather coo, that the movement may be repeated.

For the second stage, the instrument is similar to the first, but larger and stronger.

The third stage is adapted to the time when it is judicious to begin to teach the child to walk. The legs, and, indeed, every part of the body, are supported by the instrument, which cannot be overturned. When this is put into motion, the child's left leg is first moved, then the right, and so on alternately. A perfect idea of walking, with the necessary movement of the joints, is thus given to the child, without the slightest strain on its limbs, as yet unfitted to bear the weight of its own body. The machine continues in motion for a time sufficient to exercise without causing fatigue.

As soon as the child has acquired the knowledge of the motion, and his limbs are strong enough to support the weight of the body without injury, these machines are put aside, and the fourth contrivance is used. In this, the mechanism consists of a framework with very light and soft bandages, made with the plumage and down of birds. With these bandages the child's head, knees, elbows, wrists, shoulders, and loins are gently bound. The framework to which the bandages are attached has a projection from every point, on which the child, in case of accident, can possibly fall, and he is thus effectually protected; for, as the projection allows of his falling only slightly out of the perpendicular, the concussion is but slight, and the young one is only pressed gently on the soft down.

As the child increases in strength, the projections are removed at intervals, one by one, commencing with those corresponding to the knees, the last removed being those protecting the head, which are retained for a long time. Even when they have been removed, the head is still guarded by a light turban with inside springs, made so as to yield gently to a blow, and thus save the head; so important is it considered to protect this superior portion of the human frame.

When the bandages are first removed from the knees, the child has perhaps some falls; but these, the head and other parts being protected, are not attended with any serious consequences; and if the child actually falls, the sensation of pain he may experience may teach him to be more careful in future. Such lessons would, indeed, be valuable at all times; but they would be purchased at too great a cost if learned at the price of injury to body and mind.

The use of these four instruments was followed by remarkable results; and they are thought of such great value to the community that the districts supply them gratuitously to the poor. Those thus charitably bestowed are less ornamental than the others, but equally efficient.

THE TEETH.

The teeth are also subjects of great care, and the infant is spared all pain in cutting them. When the teething-time is near, and before the pains attending it have even commenced, the child's gums are rubbed night and morning with a bulb or root so softening and relaxing in its effects, that after a short time the teeth make their way through the gums with perfect ease. When the teeth are too numerous the redundant ones are extracted, without causing the patient the slightest pain. A hot solution of the same bulb is applied to the portion of the gum which encloses the tooth to be extracted; causing the gum to separate from the roots of the tooth, which is then removed with perfect ease. None are extracted after the last have appeared, for decay is effectually prevented. In seeking remedies for the maladies of those who were born before my laws came into operation, the immediate cause of decay was discovered; but we did not rest until we had detected the remote cause and the means of preventing the evil.

By the aid of the microscope and other scientific appliances the discovery was soon made that decay in teeth is produced by a minute worm resulting from the absence of the proper electricity, necessary for preserving in the tooth a healthy action. When this electricity is deficient, the circulation in the bone becomes sluggish, the fatty matters stagnate, and through the warmth of the gum acting on the stagnant accumulation, a single worm is generated.

Though we had discovered the existence of the worm and the cause of its being bred, some time elapsed before we were able to discover whether the necessary electricity was wanting, and, by supplying the deficiency, to prevent the generation of the worm. At length a professor, by name Jerronska, invented an ingenious little instrument, of a form corresponding to the upper and lower jaw, and furnished above and below with small points or minute spikes; the instrument in a contracted shape is introduced into the mouth and is there expanded to correspond to the form of the jaws. It is charged with an electricity that can escape through the spikes only, and is opposed to the electricity of the teeth, which if healthy will cause a slight shock to the patient, without any other inconvenience. On the other hand, if any of the teeth do not contain the proper kind or quantity of electricity, they will turn to a colour like fire, leaving the healthy teeth untouched; for the instrument affects those teeth alone whose electricity is defective.

We have then the means of impregnating the unhealthy teeth with the proper electricity, and thus destroying the incipient ovum, which cannot live in an electricity healthful to the tooth.

In like manner, minute precautions are taken to preserve the beauty and power of the eye. Formerly, in consequence of the intensity of light in Montalluyah, and through other causes, the sight suffered severely.

Our physicians also found out the means of tracing and removing the germs of defects in the ear, the nostrils, the tongue—in short, everything that, if neglected, might impair the adult's energies and beauty.

Great attention is paid to the quality of the air in which children are bred, for air affects both the blood and the nerves. Its effect on the blood was long known, through the fact that air is one of its important ingredients; but its effect on the nerves was first demonstrated by observing that nerves taken from a person recently dead shrivel and contract in a vitiated atmosphere, and revive and expand when brought into the open air.

The proper mode of rooting out incipient evils is thoroughly understood in Montalluyah, there being eminent men, who make each division and subdivision of various sciences their sole study and occupation. The sight, for instance, is a great subject of study, and affords a striking instance of our subdivision; for although there are scientific men who have a general knowledge of the eye and of the human system, these make particular subdivisions of the subject their peculiar study and sole occupation. Thus, one great subdivision is the "Bile of the Eye;" another is the "Moisture of the Eye;" another the "Concentrated Light of the Eye;" another "The Relations of the Eye to the rest of the System," and so forth.

To resume: these matters, and, indeed, many more, receive effectual attention from the moment when the child is born. Every good attained goes on increasing under direct and collateral influences, until by a prolific and cumulative process, extraordinary and beneficial results are obtained in lieu of the evils that would otherwise have arisen. In short, to understand fully the extent of the good achieved, one must have been, as I was, a witness of the means and their effects—of the marvellous consequences of our attention to "little things."



XXXIII.

GYMNASTICS.

"Let your statue be beautiful, but neglect not the pedestal, lest with every adverse wind it receive a shock."

Our care of the future man is not, as I have said, confined to his infancy, but is extended to all the critical periods of life. The proper development of the frame and of manly qualities is looked upon as an essential part of the boy's education, and much of the strength, beauty, and longevity of the people is due to the physical training of the student.

Formerly little discrimination was used in the selection of bodily as of mental exercises; the same exercises being allotted to the brave and the timid, the weak and the strong boy.

Now, on the other hand, the exercise is adapted to the boy's strength and physical organization, which often differ as much as his genius from that of his companions. Exercises beneficial to one constitution are prejudicial to another, and would, perhaps, develop a part of the body already having a tendency to exaggeration.

Thus a youth inclined to be tall and lanky, or whose limbs are disposed to be too long for symmetry, is not allowed the same exercises as those of a youth with short limbs or inclined to be corpulent.

We have numerous gymnastic exercises. Some parts of our apparatus are much like yours, as, for instance, a cross-bar, on which the boy swings, holding on with his hands.

In the case just mentioned a tall, thin, long-limbed boy would not be permitted to use this bar; whilst a boy with short limbs and inclined to corpulency would be encouraged to use it daily.

A medical man attached to the college attends on the gymnastic ground to observe the efforts each boy is obliged to make in performing his exercises. When the exercises are ended, the doctor examines the boy's pulse, and, with the aid of an instrument invented for the purpose, tests the heat of his brain. The boy with whom the exercises agree will show a healthy heat and a strong, full pulse; whilst others will have the brain extremely hot, with the pulse very quick, but feeble. The doctor having formed his opinion, orders that these boys should discontinue the exercises antagonistic to their system, and they are led to those more adapted to their capabilities. The weaker boys are also often separated from the stronger, to prevent that overstraining to which a weak but high-spirited lad is frequently impelled by the emulation of example.

In the allotment of exercises our aim is to develop thoroughly the muscles, and to give a regular and general action to all the members, but not to overstrain them. The power of each boy being thus carefully remarked and regulated accordingly, all gather strength rapidly, and most are soon able to resume the exercises for a time abandoned. Indeed, by the precautions taken and the exercises selected, the body is fortified and rendered so firm, that in after years it will bear very great fatigue without sustaining injury.

BATHING IN THE SEA.

As already mentioned, ablutions are in great favour in Montalluyah, and bathing is in constant use. At a certain period of the year—about six weeks in the whole—our boys are made to bathe every morning in the open sea, into which they are taught to leap from adjacent rocks. Having been told off according to their strength and capabilities, they are gradually led to higher and higher rocks, till at length they become accustomed to jump from a vast height with ease and without fear, and thus to dive in the sea.

When there is a timid boy, six or seven of the bravest are selected to accompany him. They are directed on no account to urge him to jump off the rocks, or to taunt him for not doing so, but to let him act as he pleases. If he does not imitate their example by jumping off the rock, the overlooker who has the care of the party will say, "As you have not bathed from the rock, you had better bathe below;" and the boy is then sent to bathe with the younger ones from the beach. Ere long, of his own accord, he becomes desirous to imitate the braver boys of his own age; though I have known twelve or more mornings to elapse before the higher leap has been attempted.

When at last the boy has resolved to jump from the rock, great care is taken neither to praise him too much nor to reproach him with awkwardness. On his return to the school, he is examined by the doctor, to see if his nerves have received too great a shock, and directions are given accordingly. After a time all traces of timidity vanish, and numbers of children have thus been cured of their first aversion to jump from great heights into the sea.

No boy is allowed, under any circumstances, to taunt another with any weakness or failing; and, consequently, the boy himself scarcely knows that it is fear which has prevented him from doing the same thing as his companions.

Every day throughout the year the boys are required to take a bath either in the sea or at the institution, unless the doctor orders the contrary.

Besides the consideration of cleanliness and its effect on the complexion and health, the water used contains iron, which in our climate is of itself very beneficial to the system.

TREE-EARTH BATHS.

Where a boy's aversion to study arises from physical weakness, we do not urge him to persevere any more than we urge him against his inclination to leap from a high rock; but, on the contrary, when a boy's bodily strength fails him, and more especially in a case of superior intelligence, his studies are suspended until the weakness is remedied. Were the boy forced to persevere, he would probably suffer both in body and mind. He is merely placed in a separate department of the college—a kind of infirmary for strengthening the young, and promoting their healthy development.

For giving the desired strength we most commonly employ "Tree-earth Baths,"—that is to say, baths of fresh earth taken from beneath the roots of certain trees, in which the boy is as it were buried, every part of his body being covered, with the exception of his head. This earth bath is placed in another bath containing hot water. The effect of this operation in renewing the boy's strength and repairing the waste of his body is marvellous.

When removed from the bath the boy is washed with tepid water, mixed with a solution of bark, and on the following day a cold douche is administered. The bath, in which the boy is kept for about an hour, is administered at intervals of about ten days, and is so efficacious that not more than twelve are required for the worst cases.

Previously to being immersed the boy is made to walk sharply for half an hour, and, while he is in the bath, warm liquid food is administered. The pores being opened facilitate the reception of the fresh exhalations from the earth and the expulsion of the impure gases from the body. The boy often sleeps whilst thus immersed, as it is considered highly beneficial to inhale the fresh fragrance of the earth.

The electricities proper to the earth and trees being very sympathetic to the human frame, they readily mingle with the electricity of the patient and assist in repelling the unhealthy gases and impurities in his body.

Earth electricity is of itself most beneficial, but its curative and invigorating effects are vastly increased when impregnated with tree electricity, which is strongest about the roots.

There are men whose sole occupation it is to collect the tree-earth, and who become skilful in digging and removing the soil from underneath the roots, without in the slightest degree injuring the tree.

The earth under many trees is good for the purpose above described, but that about the roots of the oak, especially when of a ripe middle age, is exceptionally efficacious.

The roots of another tree that you have, viz., the weeping willow, offers a good earth for girls and also for boys of a susceptible nature, for whom the oak-root earth might be too strong.

The elm, horse-chestnut, and lime-earths are all more powerful than that of the oak, and therefore are rarely used, for their exceeding strength would overpower the natural electricity and leave a lassitude in the patient. The tree-earth baths are rarely used for adults, except in cases when, earlier in my reign, the mental powers of several persons had been overtaxed at the expense of their physical strength.



XXXIV.

THE AMUSEMENT GALLERY.

"The simplest electricities are often meet to discover the most precious."

The Amusement Gallery constitutes an interesting feature in the child's education, and so admirable have been its results, that the opening of the first institution of the kind—recorded, as I have said, in one of the great pictures in my summer palace—is regarded as a memorable event, and is celebrated by the people in a yearly festival.

In a very long gallery, attached to each college, is a collection of instructive toys adapted to all ages and dispositions. Amongst these are harps and other musical instruments, made on a small scale to suit the capacity of children, materials for drawing, painting, modelling, and sculpture; maps, in relief, of cities and other parts of our world, and all kinds of small birds and dwarf animals. I should not omit to state that we have living horses and deer in miniature: they are about the size of an ordinary lap-dog, though in many other respects resembling the larger species. These with their little clothes and harness are placed in the gallery, which likewise contains fresh fruit and flowers, indeed almost everything that can be imagined for the recreation and enjoyment of the child.

In the Girls' Amusement Gallery there are various kinds of fancy-work, lace-work, and basket-work. Our basket-work is very beautiful, the baskets being elegant in form and elaborately painted. Indeed, elegance of form and harmony of colour are studied in all the objects selected.

Boys, being trained by manly recreations, necessarily have their Amusement Gallery separate from that of the girls, though many of the more elegant and refined amusements are to be found in both. The girls attend their gallery, whatever may be their age, until they leave school. On the other hand, the boy ceases to attend when the Character divers and Judges think his attendance no longer desirable.

At each of the stalls in the gallery is stationed an intelligent person skilled in some particular art. Of these some play on musical instruments, some paint or model, others give oral instruction, according to the nature of the compartment or the wishes of the child.

There are also "Walkers," who perambulate the gallery, encouraging the child to amuse herself with what she likes, explaining the use of different objects, answering the young inquirer's questions, and noting in her any particular qualities or peculiarities. The results of these observations are drawn up in the shape of reports for the use of the Judges.

No restraint is put upon the children when in the gallery, but they are allowed freely to follow the bent of their own inclinations. I have often observed some of these little creatures ardent for amusement responding to their own predilections; others taking interest in frivolous things; others, again, listless, and interesting themselves in nothing. Whilst many would examine with breathless attention, others would ask questions, more or less intelligent, of the persons at the head of each stall.

I have seen some children with an engrossing taste for painting, music, and sculpture, who would rush straight to their favourite pursuit, without being diverted by anything else, and who, if they found the desired place already taken, would show disappointment, and perhaps refuse any other occupation. Many, on the other hand, as soon as they entered the gallery, would simply play with the little animals and birds, or perhaps do nothing but eat fruit till the last minute, when the bell announced that the time allotted for recreation was ended.

Some would do nothing but talk, and, in their simplicity, would find fault with everything, after the too frequent fashion of adults, either imagining they could do most things better than the rest, or depreciating pursuits which they knew were beyond their ability.

Natures of this kind, where vanity is so predominant, require the greatest care, for the failing is difficult to eradicate and would, if not cured, be a source of great unhappiness in after life. To prevent such a result, generally, means are taken to refine the taste of the patient (if I may use the word), and call out the quality most opposed to the infirmity, viz., that of looking out for beauties instead of defects.

I have seen a little one change her amusements several times during the hour. When a child, particularly a girl, continues to do this during many weeks, it is regarded as a sign that if the disposition be not checked she will grow up a capricious woman, and a treatment is therefore adopted to stop the growth of the infirmity. Many a girl, who would otherwise have proved a misery to herself and to others, has, by the precautions taken, become a reasonable and meritorious woman. However, children of a capricious temperament, even when seemingly cured, require constant watching during some time, since they are very prone to return to their old inclination for incessant change.

Versatility, it should be understood, is not confounded with caprice, the difference between them being easily detected by the Character divers. I have seen children show a love for seven or eight different things and go from one thing to another, not from caprice, but to satisfy the natural yearnings of their genius. I recollect a girl, and she was but one amongst many, whose versatility was marvellous. One day music would occupy her, and, although untaught, she would give promise of becoming a brilliant performer; another day she would commence sculpture, and at once go readily to work. She first made a ball with the plaster, and then, on the second or third attempt, she would execute something really well. So was it with painting and other arts. This love of variety would formerly have been called caprice, and strenuous efforts would have been made in a wrong direction to the discouragement, perhaps to the ruin of the pupil; but I acted on a contrary principle, knowing, as I did, that in giving varied talents Providence intended that they should be exercised, and that, therefore, it would not be decorous "to care for one part of the garden, and leave the others overgrown with weeds." The girl was treated in accordance with this view, and taking the highest honours and position, became a very remarkable woman.

Judges are not expected to form an estimate of the child's character until a certain time has elapsed and the reports of the different officers have been examined and compared. Their decisions are then registered, to be again examined and compared with subsequent reports.

The results obtained through the medium of the Amusement Gallery greatly aids the Character-divers and others occupied with education, in rightly directing the child's steps. The imposition of useless tasks, fatiguing to the children and perhaps injurious to the young intelligence, is thus avoided.



XXXV.

PRAYER.

"Forget not the source whence all blessings come."

While stating that the prayers said by girls after their early meal are short, I ought to have added that the same rule is followed with regard to children of both sexes.

We even vary our forms of worship and services to suit different ages. Before my reign adults and children went to the same places of worship, repeated the same prayers, and listened to the same discourses, most of which being perfectly unintelligible to those of tender years, the evils and inconveniences resulting from the practice were very great. The children, finding the routine irksome, the constrained decorum required of them during a time which seemed to them never ending (for the services were then very long) was painful in the extreme, though they were sometimes relieved by turning their thoughts in other directions, perhaps to subjects irrelevant if not opposed to the ostensible object of the meeting.

Thus pain and weariness became then and in after life naturally associated with the most sacred of duties, and generally those, who at an early age had been obliged to attend most regularly to an unintelligible and irksome routine, were in after life those who absented themselves most frequently from the place of worship. I have known some, and this will scarcely be credited, who from an early age had in obedience to their parents' commands attended church with what was to them painful and monotonous regularity, and who, as soon as they were old enough to leave the parental jurisdiction, never entered a place of worship again until the day of their death, so great had been their stifled repugnance, created by the unnatural surfeit which had been inflicted upon them.

This was not all: the repugnance thus engendered often extended even to the faith itself which the prayers and discourses had been intended to inculcate, and led the way in after life to doubt and disbelief.

There was another though a secondary evil, attendant upon these old formalities. In our climate, where children are very susceptible, it happened that when on rare occasions any striking observation attracted their attention, they would put questions very difficult for their parents or preceptors to answer.

The forms of worship and service are now adapted to three several ages and classes of intelligence. The first series is for children of from seven to ten years of age, the second for children from ten to sixteen, the third for adults. If the children, however, show any deficiency of intelligence, they are kept in the first or second series, though the stated age has been passed.

The discourses addressed to the young people are adapted to their age and intelligence, and ordinarily bear reference to their own passing actions, and consequently to their hours of play and of study. They are intended to inculcate lessons of self-control, love for parents or associates, contentment, and the mode of showing gratitude for benefits received, by cultivating the faculties which God in His goodness has bestowed. The discourse often points out the mode of contending against any bad feelings that might possibly be awakened. They might be told, for instance, that if during play any dissatisfaction with their companions arose, and they felt they could not control themselves, they ought immediately to retire from the game, in order that their feelings might have the opportunity of returning to their proper channel, and on no account to urge anything against the supposed offender until they had advised with some friendly adult, or more especially a Character-diver.

The children are encouraged not only in their affection to their parents and immediate associates, but in brotherly love to all, and the whole discourse, which is very short, is pointed to their duty to God, being calculated to instil feelings of love and adoration for His goodness.

In the first series, for very young children whose intelligence is undeveloped, we have forms and ceremonies, the tendency of which is to fix their attention and inculcate thoughts and habits of a good tendency.

In the second series the addresses are of a more elevated character, and are accompanied by fewer forms and ceremonies.

In the highest series there are scarcely any ceremonies, and although the service and discourses are short, every one is expected to pass a certain time each day in voluntary prayer and meditation in the private cabinet which in every house is set apart for devotion only.

Though the prayers for children are short, the preacher is greatly assisted by our method of education, inculcating the worship of the Supreme by habits which the child is led to form. Thus we require the greatest attention to cleanliness, to the mode of eating, sleeping, talking, and indeed to all the daily practices of life.

The inculcation and exercise of good habits is considered to form, as it were, a perpetual living hymn to the Creator.

LECTURES.

Besides all this, twice a week, amusing lectures are delivered, on familiar subjects, to explain and illustrate the power and goodness of God.

A flower, for instance, is taken, and, in simple terms, intelligible to nearly every capacity, attention is called to its thousand fibres, its construction, growth, perfume, colour, delicacy of texture, loveliness, and to the wonders associated with its birth, death, and resurrection to life.

Another day, perhaps, the subject may be a child, a fly, or some other familiar object; but, whatever be the subject, the discourse is of a good tendency, and youth are early imbued with love and admiration for the Supreme Being.

Our objection to children repeating or listening to words which they do not understand is not confined to those of sacred import. During the education of their young minds the subjects taught and the expressions used are adapted to their intelligence. Even though they may repeat every word of the lesson set with minute accuracy, they are not allowed to quit it, or to attend a lecture on another subject, until they have passed through examination in different forms, and often by different masters, and the result has clearly shown that they thoroughly understand what the words of the lesson are intended to convey.

So important is this considered that, on the occasion of the public solemn ceremony, when in presence of the Kings the preceptor is appointed to his responsible duties, one of the obligations to which he is required to subscribe is, that he will teach the pupil to understand thoroughly, and not merely by rote,—"monkey-like," or as you would probably say, "parrot-like," were the same obligation imposed in your world.



XXXVI.

FLOCKS AND HERDS.

TREATMENT OF ANIMALS.

"Why are the poor hungry?—Why do not your flocks and herds multiply and increase?—Why do ye maltreat the sire and kill the mother of many progenies."

"Obey my Laws, and your flocks will equal in number the drops of water in the great Cataract, which ever flowing, ever merging in the mighty Ocean, is constantly supplied with new increase for the refreshment and delight of Montalluyah."

Amongst the numerous precautions for the promotion of the general health is the attention given to the subject of animal food, the care taken of the beast, the mode of slaughtering, and the rigour with which every beast having the slightest tendency to disease is rejected as unfit for food.

All animals, and particularly those intended for food, are now treated with great kindness, gentle treatment and cleanliness being thought essential to the excellence of the meat. Formerly, when the beasts were improperly treated, the growth of the young was impeded and the quality of the meat deteriorated. They are now watched over with the utmost care, the greatest attention is paid to the most minute particulars, and so well are they treated, that, notwithstanding the heat of the climate, they are quite tame. When any one goes into a field, the sheep and lambs will come round him and lick his hand. Their pasture is changed every week, for it is found that, when in our climate grass is eaten too closely, noxious insects are bred by the accumulation of stale manure. In or near every pasturage are pools of running water, to which the animals are conducted daily. These are supplied by a very high jet which, when in action, throws its water from a reservoir to a long distance, which may even be increased by means of pipes, and thus fertilizes the field. Much of the water proceeds in the first instance from the cataracts, which begin high above the level of the meadows. As soon as the animals are turned out, the jet is made to play on the fields they have quitted. Then the moisture, mingling with the fresh manure, and our glorious sun enrich the land, and luxuriant grass is quickly produced.

In former years diseases prevailed amongst our flocks and herds. We had one amongst the sheep, not unlike the smallpox of your world. These diseases were generated partly by the filthiness of the pasturage, and partly by a want of change, which I believe to be principal causes of many of your cattle diseases. We now give far more attention to the cleanliness and health of the animal than in our world was formerly bestowed on the poor.

In every field is a shady spot, contrived to protect the animals from the sun during the heat of the day. The ground being very undulating, a shade is obtained by merely throwing out, from the higher land above, some wood or other material to serve as a roof.

In case of illness among the animals, the great remedy used is a particular kind of electricity, which gives an impulse to the blood and changes the humours. This, with diet and care, is the only expedient employed to restore the animal to health. If a female animal is of a sickly nature and likely to give birth to inferior beasts, she is quietly put out of the way.

THE MALE ALONE KILLED.

To the care taken of the beasts is greatly due the perfection of their breed and to a certain extent their numbers; but the law that contributes most to the marvellous increase of our flocks and herds is that which forbids the slaughter of the female. In every species the male only is used for food. If we killed the mother we should, as it were, kill the progeny that would otherwise be bred from her, and our immense stocks would not then be a hundredth part as numerous as they are at present.

The cow, after she has ceased bearing, is used to carry the women's baskets, or for very light draughts. The ewe, when she has ceased bearing, is trained to assist in field and garden operations, to pull up cabbages, carrots, and other vegetables, being, in short, more useful to us than the dog.

SLAUGHTERING ANIMALS.

In killing animals for food all painful processes are avoided. Under the old system the cruelty with which the animal was treated, and its suffering from the violence of the death-struggle greatly affected the quality of the meat, lessened its nutritive powers, and rendered it less digestible, and very often exciting and injurious. Now, when an animal is to be killed, it is placed in a large lighted stable, over which is a loft, communicating with it by means of a grating. In this a man is stationed, who thrusts through the grating a long stick, baited with a bunch of fresh grass, in the middle of which is contained a small globule endued with the property of depriving the animal of all consciousness and sense of feeling. As soon as the beast has eaten the grass, and consequently swallowed the pill, he staggers and falls; and, before he has time to recover, the butcher despatches him by cutting his throat and letting out the blood, whereupon he dies a painless death, without a struggle. Only one animal is despatched at a time in the same stable, so that one does not see another killed. There is reason for this precaution.

A lamb takes the ball of grass from the hand, for it is thus our shepherds sometimes feed them. Poultry are killed by very small quantities of the preparation being mixed with their grain; the fowls sometimes take up two or three grains not impregnated with the material, but as soon as the smallest particle is swallowed they stagger and fall. It is interesting to see this, the effect is so instantaneous. The ingredient used does not in any way injure the meat and is indeed considered beneficial, even to the human system, when administered in small quantities, since the torpor it causes at the moment is succeeded by increased vitality and strength.

THE BLOOD OF ANIMALS.

When the animal is killed we are very scrupulous in pouring out the blood, which we avoid using for any purpose connected with food. On every occasion of the kind "field doctors" are present to see that all due precautions are taken. They analyse the blood, and if it does not contain the proper ingredients, the animal is looked upon as diseased, and its flesh rejected as so far unwholesome; in our climate it would be difficult of digestion, and produce heaviness, disinclination to study, despondency and other inconveniences. Blood is said to contain the electricity that, in connection with the electricity on the nerves, gives action, feeling, pleasure, and pain. Blood, indeed, contains as it were the material through which the life of the animal carries on its operations.

PROTECTION OF THE MEAT FROM INSECTS.

The animal as soon as killed is cut up into different portions, each of which is placed for a few minutes in a large vessel containing an infusion of a certain herb, to which flies and winged insects of all kinds have a great antipathy. The steeping of the meat into this preparation effectually protects it against their approach. There are immense numbers of winged insects in our climate, but none will approach food which has been steeped in an infusion of this herb. By these and other precautions they are kept within certain limits and driven to the uses for which nature intended them. It is not necessary to keep the meat in the vessel for more than a few minutes, nor does the liquid deteriorate the quality or taste of the meat. Far from being noxious to the human race, the herb, which is free from smell, contains a healthy bitter, is cooling and refreshing, and cleanses and preserves the pores of the skin.

Formerly numbers of persons were affected by the deposits, which, left by flies on meats and provisions generally, caused irritation of the bowels, diarrhoea, and vomit, and were otherwise very injurious to the system.

I may here mention that a preparation of the herb to which I have referred is used for fruits and provisions generally, which are protected by a light gauze steeped in an infusion of the herb and thrown loosely over them; though, indeed, it is only necessary to place the gauze at the side of the provisions to prevent the approach of the enemy.

This infusion is also used in our houses, and during repasts; couches, bedding, and coverings are sprinkled with the liquid. A preparation is also used for the toilette, in order to protect the head and face from the flies.

CRUELTY TO ANIMALS.

Cruelty to an animal, even when not intended for food, entails so much disgrace that it is an offence of the rarest occurrence. My laws provide various punishments according to the grade of the offender and the nature of the offence.

If a common man were really cruel to his horse he would be compelled to draw his merchandise by hand. If the offence were committed by a man of high position the punishment would be more severe, and not only would he be treated as though he were unworthy of exercising power over good animals and consequently deprived of all his horses, but he would be supplied with a vicious horse, which, perhaps, he would be obliged to ride along a dangerous path, that he might thus be made to appreciate the superior gentleness of the one he had maltreated. If the offence were repeated, he would be degraded from his position or condemned during a certain period to wear "the dress of shame."



XXXVII.

THE ALLMANYUKA.

"Improve Nature's gifts, and with her elements form new compounds....

"Were man's faculties given that they should slumber?"

Nothing engaged my attention more than the health of my people. I had satisfied myself that the most virulent diseases took their development from minute, nay, almost imperceptible causes.

As I had determined to find out the germs of faults in children, which, when neglected, led to confirmed vices in the adult; so I was determined to discover disease in its incipience, and wherever possible, to remove the exciting cause.

I have already referred to the creation of a new fruit-vegetable, as one of the subjects of a series of pictures in my summer palace. I will now relate to you some facts regarding the production of the fruit, the offspring of my anxiety for the health of the people.

In the early part of my reign, before the means had been discovered for detecting the incipient germs of disease, the people were afflicted by the return of a painful malady, with which they had often been afflicted before. It was attended with irritation of the intestines, and carried the sufferer off rapidly; for, although all the doctors were familiar with the symptoms, none of them had been able to discover the cause of the disease, or its cure.

I remarked that the children at the colleges were not attacked by this disease, and therefore thought that it had probably originated in something used by adults and not by the young.

The truth of my hypothesis was soon tested. A person of robust frame, whom I much esteemed, died suddenly of the malady. I entreated his friends, in the interest of humanity, to allow his body to be examined.

The people at this period indulged in the use of sauces, seasoned with strong stimulating spices. These were excluded from colleges, and consequently were used by adults only.

I communicated my opinion to the doctors: viz., that in the case they were about to examine, it would be found that these burning condiments had inflamed the intestines, and impeded nature in the discharge of her functions. My impressions were correct. With the aid of the electric microscope upwards of forty minute ulcers, highly inflamed, were discovered in the intestines of the deceased, and in each of these ulcers were seen several minute grains of some very hot condiments much in use, which had affected the inner membrane, generated the ulcers, and caused a hasty but painful death.

Assured of the baneful effect of the condiments, I determined to forbid their use, though I knew this would be a serious infliction on the people, inasmuch as the extreme heat of our climate made stimulants necessary. The condiments were much liked, and amongst all the many fruits and vegetables we possessed there were none that could be used as substitutes.

On forbidding their use, I made known publicly the discovery that had been made, every particular being clearly explained, that the people might be convinced that I was acting for their good.

In obedience to my orders, the spices were collected from every quarter, and placed in large warehouses secured under lock. The "bolts" were delivered to the kings, who were astonished at the rapidity with which I had obtained obedience to a decree depriving all of what had become a daily want.

I saw, however, that unless the people were supplied with a substitute for what they had lost, they would soon return to the deleterious condiments in spite of my decree.

Having made known to all about me that I wished some hours for serious thought, I shut myself up in a little cabinet at the summit of my palace, where I could see only the heavens. All around me was silent and calm as night.

Having prayed the aid of the Great Power, I endeavoured, by intense meditation, to discover what healthful condiment could be substituted for the deleterious spices of which the people were deprived.

After many hours of deep meditation, a ray of light burst on me and I was inspired with a happy thought. I could not as yet see the result clearly, but nevertheless I felt that in the end my efforts would be blessed with success. I did not hesitate to publish the fact that I had made a discovery which, when perfected, would repay the people twenty-fold for the loss of the condiments they had given up in obedience to my decree.

In the mean time, until I could fully carry out my intention, I allowed the people a particular kind of cordial; for I found that, after the extraordinary heat of the day, many persons required stimulants, especially mothers, who had been educated before my laws had come into operation, and whose health and constitution had not consequently been properly fortified.

I proceeded with my work. We have a small vegetable, called Jappeehanka, that hangs from its stem like a fruit and has a rich creamy taste, without any other flavour. I grafted this vegetable on a tree called Klook, the fruit of which, used generally by persons of delicate digestion, had a sour aromatic flavour.

After many disappointments and unsuccessful attempts to obtain the vegetable I wished, I succeeded, by artificial means frequently employed, in growing a small vegetable, combining the flavour of a delicate cream with the piquancy of lemon.

The most difficult part of my task had however not been accomplished, namely, to give to the vegetable all the aromatic and stimulating flavours of the prohibited spices.

A fine specimen of the seed of each of the spice plants having been procured, I took from the heart of each seed the smallest possible particle, and, having with the greatest care made an incision in one of the finest seeds of my new vegetable, I inserted therein one specimen of each of these minute particles.

The incision was made in the centre of the seed, but not deep enough to enter or injure its heart.

The seed of my cream-lemon vegetable, containing the spice seed particles, I confided to the care of my principal gardener, a man of great scientific skill and intelligence.

I must not omit to say that we extracted the oil out of the roots of each of the spices formerly in general use and mixed the oils with the earth in which we planted the newly-compounded vegetable seed.

We watched the precious seed night and day with anxious solicitude. I had other seeds ready prepared and planted, in case this should fail.

One night in my slumber I was disturbed by my attendant telling me that the gardener had an important communication to make. I bade him enter. He came to make known to me that my labours had been so far successful, that, in the vase of earth in which the seed had been planted, a little white bud was bursting from the ground. He brought the vase in his arms, and I will not deny that I shed tears of joy.

About three years from that time, to my delight, fruit made its appearance. I watched with greedy eagerness the day when it would ripen.

I cannot tell you with what anxiety I tended its growth. I fancy at this moment I feel the heart-beatings that always accompanied me as I approached the spot where the plant was placed.

The gardener, desiring to save me some of the pain of deferred hope, told me that the time of ripening would be later than I had anticipated.

A little in advance, however, of the time I had foretold, the gardener entered my study, with a face radiant with joy, and placed before me one of the prettiest little baskets I had ever seen, though the beauty of our basket-work is, as I have said, remarkable. I thought it must be a present from his wife, for she was very skilful and often presented me with baskets of her own work. Loving my people as I did and looking on them all as my children, I saw the nervous state of the man, and to reassure him, I said, "This is kind of your fair Lineena." At the same time I admiringly examined the basket, but its weight indicating that there was something inside, I raised the lid, and beholding its contents I uttered a cry, such a cry of joy as might escape a parent on finding a long-lost child.

The basket contained a specimen of the precious fruit quite ripe. I turned it on every side with anxious interest, and, having congratulated my faithful gardener, who had so zealously carried out my wishes, I descended to the culinary department, for I would not trust the precious treasure to others, and I immediately proceeded to cook the vegetable of my creation.

I directed a small bird to be prepared with which to eat the new condiment, that I might thus test its properties; when it had been served, I directed the gardener to sit at my table. The success was beyond my best hopes. By the process of cooking, the fruit-vegetable had been dissolved to the consistency of a jelly, and formed the most relishing sauce ever tasted,—aromatic, stimulating, and appetising.

To a richness like cream was added the pungency and aromatic flavour of spices, with the relish of salt and the piquancy of fresh lemon-juice— in a word, the combination presented the finest flavour for a condiment that could possibly be desired, surpassing all the spices and sauces hitherto known in my world. Indeed, it was so exquisitely appetising that an epicure might easily be tempted to eat the vegetable without the addition of the meat.

During the growth of the tree, many slips had been planted, which were then in a flourishing state, so that in a very short time the vegetable fruit was cultivated extensively, and became a household necessity.

On examining the Allmanyuka (for so we called this fruit-vegetable, meaning, that it combined every valuable quality), and observing its effects, the doctors pronounced it very wholesome and nutritious, and admirably suited to persons of dyspeptic habit, inasmuch as it dispelled all symptoms of flatulency and, by its tonic and digestive qualities, gave a feeling of lightness to the senses.

The people wondered, and were loud in the manifestations of their gratitude, but my joy was even greater than theirs; for I had accomplished a lasting good for the subjects I loved.

Accompanied by my harp, I sang praises, with all the fervour of my soul, to Him who had inspired me with the thought, and had endowed me with patience and strength for its consummation.

Fruits had often been increased in size or improved in quality and productiveness, by grafting one tree upon another; but no new fruit had previously been created. There were instances, where trees of different kinds, the one grafted on the other, had borne two kinds of fruit. This, however, was the first instance where other means, besides grafting, were employed, and where an entirely new fruit had been brought into existence.

The Allmanyuka grows like a tree, and its stem is supported by sticks. The fruit, which hangs from its branches, is in shape, but in shape only, not unlike your vegetable-marrow, being covered with little circular divisions, each containing others still more minute.

Its colour, when raw, is of the brightest violet, which through the culinary process becomes a beautiful red, though I should observe, that the first compound vegetable in the seeds of which I inserted the spice particles was yellow.

It may not be uninteresting to know that the Allmanyuka is cooked in a vessel over steam. Indeed, everything with us is cooked by steam, this being especially serviceable, on account of the steadiness of its action. There are machines to regulate the force and action of the steam, and the attendant has only to obey mechanically the simplest instructions.

The Allmanyuka is used in some sick-rooms as a fumigator. For this purpose it is cut into slices, and the exuded juice which it bleeds is accompanied with an agreeable aromatic odour.

The fruit possesses many other valuable properties. After its discovery my people were never more afflicted with the maladies for the prevention of which it had been created. It was sometimes called by the name given by me,—often by a term signifying, "Inspiration of the Father of the World." [1]

* * * * *

[Footnote 1: Although it may appear incongruous to refer to a philosopher of this earth as illustrating the work of a philosopher of another planet, the Editor cannot help quoting a passage from a man possessed of wondrous prescience, who, to use his own words, "held up a lamp in the obscurity of philosophy that would be seen ages after he was dead." It will also in a measure convey the difference between the process of grafting and the course pursued by the Tootmanyoso in the creation of the Allmanyuka.

The inspired philosopher says: "The compounding or mixing of kinds in plants is not found out, which, nevertheless, if it be possible, is more at command than that of living creatures, for that their lust requireth a voluntary motion; wherefore it were one of the most noble experiments touching plants to find it out; for so you may have great variety of new fruits and flowers yet unknown. Grafting doth it not; it mendeth the fruit or doubleth the flowers, etc.; but it hath not the power to make a new kind. For the scion ever over-ruleth the stock."—Bacon's 'Sylva Sylvarum.']



XXXVIII.

PAPER.

"...A handmaid and messenger of Memory. A recorder of the aspirations of Genius."

There is a peculiarity in the leaf of the Allmanyuka which I will now mention; but, to make myself intelligible, I must give you some few facts about our paper, of which we have an unlimited supply, and which is made from the leaves of nearly every kind of tree, gathered just before they begin to fade, but whilst still green. Dead leaves are used for other purposes.

The leaves of some trees make finer paper than others, and, though every kind of leaf is available, one kind only at a time is used to make paper of the finest quality. Mixed leaves are used to make paper of a common and coarser kind.

All papers, when dried in the sun, have a glossy surface, and none can be torn, or ignited by the application of fire; the paper will smoulder, but not burst into flame. Our paper is transparent, and is besides so very light, soft, and pliable, that in warm weather it is used for children's dresses. Very pretty it is to see the graceful movements of the little creatures' limbs through the pellucid costumes, which are made complete without a seam, the material being most beautifully fine, like one of the silk gauzes of your India.

In our world it was well known that paper could be made from rags, but this material was not as plentiful as leaves, and we discovered, moreover, that it was injurious to the workmen, whilst the manufacture from leaves not only produces a paper far superior to that made with rags, but is a most healthful occupation.

Our trees are, I believe, more numerous than yours; but you have many trees even in Europe from the leaves of which excellent paper of a kind similar to ours could be made, as, for instance, the horse-chestnut and oak. The horse-chestnut leaf makes some of the best paper; the leaves of the lilac-tree and of the apple-tree are also excellent; but perhaps the best leaf of all for very fine paper is the vine leaf, which has less moisture, and gives less trouble in the preparation.

In the manufacture of paper the leaves are subjected to a great pressure, and the fragrance emitted from the crushed leaves is delicious, and considered very wholesome, so much so indeed that young children are often sent to reside near the place where the leaves are being crushed to inhale the fragrance.

The original moisture is removed by a substance, chiefly consisting of a very fine sand, beautifully compounded with other materials, and spread over a hard pliant stuff. This laid on the pressed pulp sucks out all the original moisture. The fine sand material, though possessing quite a smooth surface, is like a sponge in its power of suction, and, when used, is unrolled and pressed over the pulp by a machine.

This done, the plate containing the paper is moved to an adjoining part of the building, which is roofless, and is there exposed to the rays of the sun, which finishes the drying process and gives a beautiful glaze or polish to the paper. Nothing so well dries the paper as the sun, as we have proved by frequent experiments. After the sun, fire is the most efficacious agent; but this gives the paper a dead and chill appearance.

Our paper is as good as yours, though not better to write upon. I have already informed you of some of the points of difference between them. Paper can be made to almost any size, and without any seam. One other peculiarity is that our paper makes no more noise when doubled up than a piece of linen.

The colour principally in use is that of cream or a very light yellow; for though we can produce a chalky white, we do not use it in our stuffs, except for linen.

There is a paper which we call "natural," because its green colour exceptionally resembles that of the leaf, although it is purely artificial, being produced by the use of a powder obtained from a particular fruit which hangs from a tree in the shape of small eggs, and contains a white powder of a sticky consistency. This powder is mixed with the leaves, and the paper thus prepared is very transparent. At first it has a kind of primrose tint, but, when subjected to heat, or to the sun, turns green. The egg called "Brulista Tavi," or "Lime Egg," follows a small blossom, but the fruit alone is used. The trees are plentiful, growing on marshy ground, a long distance from, the city, for there are no marshes in its vicinity.

GOLDEN-COLOURED PAPER.

Some paper is of a pure gold colour, the result of a property inherent in the leaf itself and needing no extraneous application.

I have told you that the coarse paper is made with leaves of every description mixed together. On one occasion some of the paper, when dried, became speckled with gold in different parts, presenting a beautiful appearance, which astonished the overseer and workmen. The paper was brought to me, and I directed the overseer to endeavour to detect in future processes the cause of these beautiful specks. Many trials were made, but he did not for months find any gold in the paper.

I meditated much on the subject, and one night I retired to rest with the singular phenomenon still in my mind. In my sleep I saw my tree, the Allmanyuka, all gold.

On awaking I immediately sent for the overseer, and, without relating what I had seen in my sleep, I told him that I was impressed with the belief that it was the leaf of my tree that produced the gold specks, and requested him to have some paper made entirely from the Allmanyuka leaf, and to use the most delicate machine for the experiment.

Though accustomed to obey my orders in implicit faith, the overseer confessed to me afterwards that for certain reasons he had great cause to doubt whether the experiment would succeed. It, however, was commenced without delay. The pulp, or jelly, after having passed through the process of boiling, was of a neutral tint, without the least appearance of gold, and all hope of the desired colour vanished in the thought of the workmen. It was, indeed, reported to me that no golden tint was apparent; but I did not yet despair.

When the pulp was spread out with the trowel, it remained still colourless, but after it had undergone the process of pressing, which generally took place immediately before sponging, it presented to the astonished workmen the appearance of one sheet of gold; and when it had been exposed to the sun, it acquired the highest golden polish possible.

The material thus obtained is finer than cambric, and is used for beautiful scarfs, sun-turbans, neckties for ladies, slippers, covers, cushions, and various ornamental articles.



XXXIX.

CONSUMPTION.

THE EMEUTE.

"The huge poison-tree once lay concealed in the heart of the minute seed. Why seek ye not the germs of disease poison in their minute receptacles?"

Formerly, in certain parts of the low marshy lands, the moist and noxious exhalations generated various diseases, particularly one answering to your phthisis, and called by us karni-feroli, that is, "absorption of the vitality." Numbers lingered, with energies depressed and faculties impaired, till cut off by death. In its early stages, the disease gave no indications of its presence beyond the signs common to the most ordinary illnesses to which, indeed, they were attributed. However, no remedy was found by the doctors.

Even where the possible presence of the disease was suspected, the respiratory organs of the sufferer were subjected to various tests; but if certain symptoms were absent, and the patient breathed easily, the physicians concluded that there was no danger in the case. The signs they sought were in reality those belonging to an advanced state of the disease and, when these appeared, the malady was generally beyond cure.

No effectual measures were taken for discovering indications of the earlier stages of the malady before the beginning of my reign, when I observed that many young girls, who at first seemed to suffer only from debility and lowness of spirits, soon afterwards withered, and died of what was then called by a term answering to your expression of "rapid consumption." This often happened where the patients had been previously pronounced free from organic disease.

I knew that, in the physical as in the moral constitution, evils, however grave, have their origin in some incipient germ of small proportions, and I would not believe that the confirmed ulcers, which I had seen during the examination of diseased lungs in the Theatre of Anatomy, had arisen suddenly, for I reflected that the operations of nature are gradual. These ulcers, which are, I think, called "tubercles" by your physicians, had been the immediate cause of many deaths.

After much meditation, I concluded that the actual beginning of the malady was unknown, and that the inability of the doctors to master the disease arose from the inadequacy of the means employed for its earlier detection.

I had frequently expressed my convictions to the ablest medical men, but they held to their opinions and practice with unyielding tenacity. Our doctors at that time thought that there was no science beyond what they themselves knew, just as there were many able men who maintained that there was no other world but Montalluyah, until the invention of my telescope brought your earth and other worlds within the limit of their vision.

A young and interesting girl, a penitent, from a course of incontinence and excess, suffered much from weakness and lowness of spirits. The doctors examined her in the usual approved way, with and without their instruments, and declared that her lungs were healthy and sound; all that now ailed her, they said, was the depression arising from involuntary regrets and longings for the excitements of her former life. I had a strong impression, however, that this was not the cause of her prostration, firmly believing that her lungs were affected, though the doctors assured me that they had used every test with scrupulous care to detect disease and had arrived at a contrary decision. Not being convinced, I requested them to give me a daily report of the girl's progress.

As she grew weaker, the doctors determined to administer a powerful potion, which would lay the foundation of her cure, if their estimate of the malady was right, but would accelerate death if the lungs were really affected. Persuaded that, in the then state of medical knowledge, the girl's life could not be saved, if the disease was really phthisis, and knowing that, if it was not the case, the potion was calculated to do good, I did not prevent the doctors from acting according to their own convictions.

The potion was administered accordingly, and the girl soon fell into a calm and tranquil sleep, from which, to the surprise and consternation of the physicians, she never awoke.

The body was examined, and on the right lung were found pimples, small indeed, but visible to the naked eye, which, on closer examination with the microscope, proved to be incipient tubercles; the left lung was similarly affected. These incipient tubercles, though sufficient to cause languor and debility, by attracting the vitality of the body, had not yet become of sufficient size and virulence to affect her breathing; hence her lungs were considered sound by the doctors, who only regarded the usual tests.

I called together the principal physicians, chemists and heads of science, and requested them carefully to study this formidable disease; and, after a time, the discovery was made that all the most fatal cases of consumption were ushered in by the appearance on the lungs of minute incipient spots, which attract and feed on the vital juices of the body. These spots swell gradually into pimples of a reddish hue, on which ultimately a small yellow head appears. This breaks in due course, and the matter discharged spreads, combines, and assists in the growth and accumulation of other and larger tubercles, which cause much pain, greatly impede the passage of the air, and eventually carry off the patient.

Although pain is sometimes felt in the earlier stages of the malady, the passage of the air through the lungs is not as yet affected to any very perceptible extent. It was also found that the ordinary symptoms accompanying the presence of these spots were similar to those produced by many other causes; so that the symptoms of one disease might easily be mistaken for—as was actually the case—those of another.

The tests hitherto used were thus clearly shown to be insufficient for detecting the disease, until the tubercles had assumed a size and virulence sufficient to affect the breathing,—until, in fact, the malady was too often beyond cure.

After some time and many experiments, most efficacious means were discovered for detecting and curing this dreadful disease while still in its incipient state.

I ought to mention, that on the death of the girl to whom the potion was administered, her friends learning that I had not opposed the administering the fatal potion, were very violent against me and, instigated by those who had at first opposed my law, openly declared that she had been put to death by my orders. They thus succeeded in arousing the passions of the multitude. At that time many young persons were dying of consumption in a marshy valley, while others were afflicted with disorders, which baffled the skill of the physicians and were accompanied with the same symptoms that attended the malady of the deceased girl. During the popular excitement to which I have referred, the parents of these sufferers were made to believe that potions similar to those which had already been administered with such fatal results, were now to be administered to their own sick children, and that similar results would ensue.

I lost not a moment in summoning before me the heads of families and friends of the sufferers, at the same time announcing the subject on which I wished to discourse.

The meeting took place in the great hall of my palace, which is capable of containing many thousands, and I explained to the assembled multitude that when the potion was administered to the deceased girl, the malady was so far advanced that there were no means of saving her life, and that in administering the potion the doctors had hoped to do good, believing, contrary to my own convictions, that the complaint was not organic. I explained that her death, and the knowledge gained by the examination of her lungs, would be the salvation of most of their children, of the nature of whose malady the doctors were now convinced.

Asked by the girl's friends if I would myself take a potion similar to that administered to the girl, I offered to drink double the quantity, in the presence of the assembled multitude. When the cup was close to my lips, and I was about to drink the potion, a woman in the crowd called out that the liquid I held in my hand was innocuous, and very different to the poisonous draught administered to the girl! So convinced was she of this, that she offered to let her own child drink the potion out of my cup!

This child being, as I believed, afflicted with incipient consumption, I cautioned the mother, explaining to her what would be the consequences of her rashness. Still she insisted, and adhered to her opinion that if I could drink the potion with impunity, the child could do the same. I resisted, until at length many in the crowd, who had before been influenced by my words, inferred from my hesitation that what the woman said was really true! Perceiving that further hesitation on my part would result in great evil, and in many deaths, I allowed the child to drink a quarter of the potion, and I swallowed the rest myself. My lungs being perfectly sound the potion only stimulated my system, but the effect on the child was the same as it had been on the girl: it slept, and woke no more.

Having addressed the people for a long time and calmed their anger, I requested them to proceed to the place where the girl's body lay, to convince themselves of the advanced state of the disease under which she bad suffered. They were then marshalled by the officers of my palace, and proceeded to the Anatomical Theatre, where they satisfied themselves with their own eyes of the truth of what I had told them. Public confidence was restored, and many sufferers were saved from premature death.

Effective means were afterwards taken to detect the minute incipient pimples with which the disease was always ushered in, and never afterwards was it allowed to reach serious proportions. It was destroyed in its earliest germ, and thus much power and vitality and thousands of lives were saved to the State.



XL.

THE HARP.

"Music....the emanation of the concentrated light of the soul....The language of the angels."

The harp is our principal musical instrument. We have one that is portable and in form like a lyre; but our great harp is much larger than yours, differently constructed, and far more effective, combining, as it does, in its tones all the delicacy, expression, and oneness of a single executant, with the brilliancy and power of a combined body of performers.

It rests on a ball firmly placed on a massive pedestal, which is easily moved from one place to another by means of small wheels. The ball on which the harp rests revolves in a socket, so that the instrument can easily be placed in the position the performer desires, and then, by means of a bolt, fixed firmly in its place. No support from the executant is needed. The harp does not rest upon him in any way, and he has, at the same time, entire power over every part.

The instrument is divided into fourths, that is, into four sets of chords. The first only of these four sets is touched by the player, but on any of the first set being intoned, each corresponding string of the three other sets, all of which are stouter and more powerful than the set played upon, resounds in harmony.

The power given out by the three sets of strings is proportioned to the sound produced on the first set by the performer, as the force of an echo is stronger or weaker according as the sound producing it is increased or diminished in volume.

In the framework of the harp there are conducting strings of electricity, which unite all the rest with the first set and with each other. The electricity is generated by a liquid contained in a small tube, and is set in motion by the movement of the strings of the first set of chords. The tube can be placed in or removed from the instrument with the greatest ease; without it, the first set alone responds to the player's touch.

The musician has the power of varying and depressing the notes of the instrument in a marvellous manner, so as to produce instantaneously the most delicate or the most powerful sounds, with endless modulations and variety of tone. I have heard echoes and responses given out as though the music had been breathed from a great distance;—the gentlest whispers were alternated with all the force of a band of music.

I could not, without much expenditure of time and labour, and without explaining our science of music, which is altogether different to yours, convey to you an adequate notion of the effect produced by a skilful player. I have seen a multitude turned away from evil designs by the exquisite playing of the harpist—their passions calmed, their thoughts raised from earth to heaven.

By the aid of little knobs on the instrument, the diapason can be changed to an extent that you would not credit, for it has reference to a system different to yours. The compass and extent of sound given by our harps is very considerably higher than the notes produced by your violins, and deeper than the lowest notes given by your contrabassi.

We do not count by octaves, but by touching twos or threes different characters of sounds are produced, indicated by names such as—gaiety, joy, melancholy, truthfulness, fickleness in some things, fickleness in all things, an exalted mind, poetry, domestic peace, hatred, jealousy, morbid sensibility, pardon, receiving again into favour, flowers, decay of health, sickness, returning health, love in a gentle degree, love in a sublime degree, doubting, also trusting love, loneliness, disappointment, ambition.

These and many other sentiments are expressed by strains that go directly to the soul, and without the need of words. As all in Montalluyah understand the language the music is intended to convey, the player, without opening his lips, can express himself on the harp as clearly as by discourse; and two persons playing can hold a conversation.

As you have certain sounds responding to do, re, mi, &c., so have we certain sounds and harmonies that convey certain expressions; for instance: "I esteem you;" "I feel you in the pulsations of my blood," i.e. "I love you." Or perhaps the vibrations of the same harmony would be varied so as to be higher or lower, sharp or flat; and the player would convey that he felt the presence of his beloved in the appropriate vibration of his nerves.

In another harmony, he would compare the admired object to some beautiful soft bird like the Zudee, or a pet like the Kamouska.[1]

[Footnote 1: See p. 145.]

On the occasion of a love scene between a great harpist and a lady, I have heard the following, amongst many other sentiments, expressed by the harp: First Lenordi the harpist expressed his glowing sympathy, his admiration of beauty, of goodness, his pleading to be heard, his hope that no other occupied the lady's thoughts, his despair if his prayers were not listened to, hope, expressions of eternal devotion; in short, all the possible outpourings of a loving heart. It would be too tedious to tell you all he conveyed, but he ended thus, "Thou art pure as the dew upon the leaf of opening day ... but like to that dew wilt thy love pass away!"

Giola—the lady—took her place at the harp, and played a response expressing the following:—"Would I might believe these flattering vibrations, and the bright hopes raised within an hour to wither in a day.

"Could they but last, the skies above would pale beneath their brightness.

"Yet I would not doubt thee; thy every look makes life a dream of love."

The player then made excuses for her seeming enthusiasm, by declaring that even inanimate matter is moved by his soul-stirring strains.

"Every flower and every tendril is moved by thee, for, like thee, they are fresh and gently gay."...

This led eventually to a "choice" meeting, and the marriage was attended with many interesting incidents. Their history would of itself form a curious romance!

Every one competent is educated in the meaning of the harp-sounds, and the instruction in this branch of study commences at an early age. Certain sentences are written, and a sound is given out and repeated till the young person thoroughly understands what he has heard. Then the sentence is renewed, perhaps, in connection with another sentence, the accompanying sound is given, and in a short time the student says the word or sentence accompanying every sound, and thus he soon learns how to use these sounds, and how to vary and combine them, just as an alphabet or series of words would be used by an able writer.

When the instrument is used as a subsidiary agent, and the player accompanies his own or another's voice with words, he plays an accompaniment implying words, but not so as to attract attention from the singer. There are certain accompaniments which are adapted to anything that might be sung. These, however, the player can vary, if his talent is sufficient.

Our songs are generally spontaneous effusions, but there are songs with which certain words are permanently associated.

The harp itself is beautiful as a work of sculptural art. Around its framework most elegant and tasteful ornaments are executed with the minutest perfection—small birds of variegated plumage perched on graceful foliage of green enamel, with flowers in their natural colours, so executed as closely to resemble nature. The birds, flowers, and foliage are connected with the chords of the harp, and conceal from view small vases or reservoirs set in the framework of the instrument. From these with every touch of the chords a beautiful fragrance is exhaled, the force or delicacy of which depends on the more powerful or gentler strains produced from the instruments.

The instant the player strikes the chords, the little birds open their wings, the flowers quiver in gentle action, and then from the vases are thrown off jets of perfume. The more strongly the chords are touched, the more powerfully does the fragrance play around.

In tender passages the perfume gradually dies away, till it becomes so faint as to be appreciated only by the most delicate organisations. The result, however, is, that the sense is gratified, the heart touched, and the whole soul elevated. I have seen the most ardent natures calmed and rendered gentle by the divine strains of this angelic instrument.

It is said that in the angelic spheres flowers breathe music as well as fragrance, and that the sound itself has form, colour, and perfume. This belief suggested the thought of uniting them in harmonious concert for the gratification of those who had exercised the gifts accorded them by Heaven to a good end. As they had gained their position by their own merit, it was sought in every way to increase their happiness and their enjoyments. Nothing that art could produce was thought too good for them.

I loved the world. The wicked only are impatient and discontented. I knew that blessings are everywhere about us, though we are expected to exercise our intelligence to make them available; and whilst I inculcated that "intemperance is not enjoyment," and that "intemperance destroyed the power of enjoyment," I did not hesitate to tell my people that the world and the blessings everywhere abounding are given us to enjoy, and that, like guests invited to a banquet, we were neither to run riot nor to reject the good things offered us in love.



XLI.

SOCIAL INTERCOURSE.

"The contact of society is necessary for the nurture and preservation of the generous feelings implanted in us by the Great Spirit."

In the system I inaugurated, where every man pursued his occupation with enthusiastic delight, because he was engaged in that for which nature and education had fitted him, it became necessary to enjoin recreation and amusement as a duty, particularly in the case of learned men, whose attention was concentrated on one particular subject.

Before my reign learned men had been sometimes prone to seclude themselves from the world, while the opulent indulged in amusements to excess, and had indeed need of laws rather to restrain than to enjoin indulgence. Now, however, few, except the "humble" classes (for we have no "poor" in your sense of the word), would have sought after diversions had not my laws enjoined them as a duty.

As regards learned men, I knew that if one part of the brain was unduly excited and overworked, the other portions would lie dormant and suffer. All classes therefore were required to "undergo" amusements, and many were the precepts to encourage them in the pursuit. I added to these the force of my own example; for, though occupied incessantly with the cares of government and with abstruse meditations, I nevertheless attended amusements of all kinds, and often gave fetes of great beauty and magnificence for the recreation of the people. I was a frequent attendant at places of amusement, public games, and races, and refreshed myself almost daily with the sympathetic contact of the numerous society which my hospitality brought round my table.

When my laws on the subject of social intercourse were first promulgated there were many wise men who questioned the wisdom of my requiring the learned to cultivate social relations. These addressed to me many arguments in support of their views and objected that, without having their thoughts interrupted by the clang of society, simple changes of subject, or at least the simplest distractions, would amply suffice to give the necessary repose. I always encouraged the learned to communicate to me their opinions, to which I invariably listened with attention; and in this case the arguments they adduced in support of their views were so plausible that I resolved to convince them by an actual experiment.

To satisfy them, and confirm the belief of others, I allowed the chief opponents of my doctrines to select ten learned men who desired to pursue their own idea of seclusion, and ten others were selected by me from those who were converts to my views in matters of recreation and amusement. The twenty men thus selected were, as nearly as possible, equal in point of talent, and were all engaged on the same engrossing subject—one which required great concentration of thought. The utmost care was taken that the experiment might be fairly and conclusively tried.

The result of this experiment, which extended over many years, proved indisputably that I was right; for whilst the productions of the "amusing and amused" men were equal in all, and in many respects superior to, those of the "seclusionists," the latter showed visible marks of the evils of their abstinence.

After a few years their indifference for the world had grown into positive misanthropy. They refused to receive any visits, became negligent of their personal appearance, and centred their whole affection upon the object of their study.

Among those who had lived in seclusion seven out of the ten had lost their hair and the freshness of their complexion, both of which with us are highly valued. They were very sallow, and their figures betrayed the incipient decrepitude of old age, though for our world they were but in the prime of life, if not of early manhood. Besides which they had formed contracted notions on many subjects, some of them being what is called eccentric.

On the other hand, the collected works of the ten men who had profited by contact with the world and its amusements were equal in all respects, and indeed superior in some, to those of the "seclusionists." They were for the most part large and liberal minded. There was but one who might be called narrow-minded and eccentric, but his exceptional state was greatly owing to the fact that the origin of this tendency had not been attended to in childhood. He had, indeed, been educated under the old system and consequently before the establishment of the office of Character-divers. This man was the only one who was subject, though partially, to the physical accidents which had affected the "Seclusionists." The remaining nine "Society-sympathisers" remained fresh, vigorous, and gay.

What, however, satisfied my wise men the most was, that the works of the learned men who had lived in contact with the world were actually in many respects superior to the works of the Seclusionists, although these also were more than remarkable.

In requiring learned men to mix with the world, I did not forbid frequent solitude and retirement for meditation. I only objected to the passion being indulged in to the exclusion of the refreshing sympathies developed by a contact with society.

The result of the experiment I have referred to seemed to satisfy even the ten Seclusionists, who at least changed their habits in obedience to my law, The effects of the seclusion on some of the ten were, however, not got rid of, until a certain time had elapsed, and, but for increased knowledge of the malady of monomania, these effects on one of the ten Seclusionists would have been even far more serious than they fortunately proved to be.

THE MONOMANIAC.

This man, eminent in the highest degree, believed that another learned man, his friend and greatest admirer, was his bitter enemy. All efforts to convince him to the contrary were fruitless, for although remarkably clear-sighted on most other subjects, he obstinately refused on this to listen to the truth. Indeed, the remonstrances of his friends had the effect of strengthening his conviction that the reptile, as he called the supposed enemy, assumed the appearance of friendship, the better to mask his infamous designs.

This delusion went on for some time, but did not show itself beyond words, and even those were never addressed to the supposed enemy, whose designs he said "he would meet with simulation and the reptile's own insidious weapons." Greatly as all this was to be regretted, the man was so venerated, and was usually so calm, that none suspected any tendency to a deranged intellect. His strong feelings were ascribed to mistaken impressions, until a very disagreeable occurrence opened our eyes to his real state.

Both he and his supposed "enemy" were present at a dinner, given by a high official, the chief Knowledge-tester or Examiner. Our dining-tables are semicircular, and the guests are seated on the convex side only. The Monomaniac, being a particular friend, honoured by the host, sat next to him in the centre. The supposed "enemy" happened to be seated at the extreme end of the semicircle, and consequently in a position to be seen from the centre of the table. All went on well till about the middle of the repast, when suddenly the Monomaniac rose, pointed to his supposed enemy, and addressing himself to the guests, said, "Look there! Do you not see the grimaces he is making at me?"